


The Grass Is Always Greener

by Breathesgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me A Rare 2019, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 17:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breathesgirl/pseuds/Breathesgirl
Summary: Nagini's attempts to find a better life, and how they turned on her at every turn.





	The Grass Is Always Greener

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Volume   
Song Prompt - The Brighter Side Of Life - Eric Idle - The Life Of Brian

Phineas Nigellus Black, head of House Black, and widower of some 39 years was sitting under an umbrella charm to guard against the mist in the garden of his French townhouse; a manicured hand landed on his shoulder, bringing him out of his reverie which was probably just as well. He looked up into the frowning face of his wife of only a few months.

He frowned deeply when he saw she was carrying a  _ muggle _ umbrella, “why must you insist on such inferior products when the magical is so much superior? And where did you get it? I thought I banished all non-magical objects from the property,” he growled as he cast an umbrella charm for her.

Nagini sighed as she collapsed the quite serviceable muggle invention, knowing he would not carry on a proper conversation until it was out of use and out of sight, and handed it to her husband so he could do what he would with it: he banished it to parts unknown as she said wearily, “some muggle inventions are quite good, you know,” they’d had this conversation many times since they first met just the year before, “like that umbrella!”

“I suppose for the mudbloods,” Nagini winced at the derogatory word used to describe magical persons born to non-magical parents. He ignored her in favour of continuing his lecture once again, “squibs and the totally useless they are quite serviceable,” Phineas agreed somewhat reluctantly, “but this is a magical household and  **only** magical devices shall be used. And you are not useless,” he stated in what his children would call his accede or die voice. “Nor are you a squib nor a mudblood. Why did you not have one of the house-elves cast the charm for you?” He asked condescendingly, “or call out to me so I could do so?”

Nagini sighed and sat in the chair Phineas indicated on the opposite side of the table, “muggle items are quite satisfactory as far as I’m concerned Phineas,” she said coldly, tired of the oft had argument. “An umbrella keeps the rain off,” she paused, hating to say the next part, even thought it was true, “for the most part...”

“Exactly!” Phineas interrupted, part in exasperation, part triumph at Nagini’s partial capitulation to the point, “for the  **most** part. Yes, your hair and chest, thankfully, stay dry, but your legs and feet get soaked!!” He nodded toward her sodden slippers and glistening legs, he hadn’t bothered to dry them for her, preferring to teach her a lesson on the superiority of magic over what she considered serviceable muggle items.

Nagini could feel her eyes prickling as the tears started to well; she often wondered why he married her since any magic she had the use of was minimal at best, and quite different from the general magic user’s, but refused to give in to them, “yes, I know,” she said in a voice which belied the tears she was holding back, “but that pocket-watch you’re so fond of is a muggle invention, is it not?”

“It is not!” Phineas declared warningly, “it was bought at a magical watch maker’s in Sweden and given to me for my seventeenth birthday. The same place I bought my sons’ watches, and they bought my grandsons’ watches!”

Nagini cringed, knowing she had gone too far with the comment, and rose to go inside with her irate husband, knowing the charm would not keep her dry for long once he was out of the immediate vicinity.

“Now,” he continued as he wordlessly dropped the umbrella charms, “what did you need me for?” At her look of confusion, though she was relieved he wasn’t going to continue the ‘conversation’, he clarified, “you DID come outside for a reason I assume?” Phineas was quite put out, he had been enjoying his solitude, and his wife was simply a warm body in bed at night and an experiment he wished to continue without having to traipse through muggle Paris to get to the facility where they’d met.

Nagini shrugged, he scowled at the uncouth movement, “nothing really, I just wanted some company.”

Phineas scowled and turned abruptly on his heel, leaving her standing in the entryway, feeling just as alone as she had before she went in search of her husband.

Nagini trudged up the steps to their bedroom to change. When she came from the powder room Phineas was standing in the middle of the room, wand raised, and clothing and assorted sundries were flying about before settling themselves into the trunk which was situated at the end of the bed. “Good, you’re dressed,” he said brusquely, “get your cloak, we’re returning to Britain.” She smiled slightly, it would be nice to have others for company, even if they were some of the most snobbish people she’d ever met. And condescending. And racist. By the time she had turned from her wardrobe the trunk had closed itself and Phineas, having shrunk it, was shoving it into the pocket of his robe. He grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the drawing room where the only fireplace connected to the floo network was. He stepped into the fireplace, pulling her after him, and threw down the floo powder, “Grimmauld Place!” He said, sending them twirling in the yellow-green flames of the floo network.

Nagini stumbled slightly as they stopped twirling, but Phineas’ iron grip on her elbow prevented her from falling. They stepped forward into his private study and she felt a wash of magic over her skin as the wards scanned her, making sure she was the sort who should be there. Phineas blew out a breath of disgust as he felt the wards struggling to classify who and what his wife was. He dropped her elbow and strode out of the room without a glance at Nagini, and straight to the basement and the wardstone so he could correct what could be a catastrophe if he didn’t act quickly enough.

He had no sooner added Nagini to the nominal wards, allowing her entrance to the house and certain rooms, but preventing her from entering others, than there was a perfunctory knock on the front door. He didn’t hurry, since he knew who was at the door, and the house elves would know someone was there no matter where they were or what they were doing, so one of them would answer the door and either direct them to the receiving room or come to him for direction.

He sedately walked up the stairs; his visitor  _ was  _ early after all, and to the receiving room where his visitor was waiting for him.

The man waiting for him looked rather energetic if the aura around him was anything to go by. He didn’t look like he fit into the magical world very well, or the muggle one either for that matter: his clothing, while fashionable, was eclectic and eccentric. Although of good quality and expensively tailored, he looked like he had attended the Dumbledore School Of Fashion and passed with flying colours, and had won the coveted Dumbledore Bleeding Eyes Award! He was wearing a bright pink silk shirt with aqua-marine stripes, a black and white checked bow tie, a plaid vest that looked like a Christmas tree had vomited on it, and a Herringbone coat and trousers. The topper was a black fedora with a pink band, which was in his hand.

Phineas winced as he walked into the room and averted his gaze as to not blind himself with the fashion atrocity standing before him. “Mr. Black,” the visitor said with a flourishing bow, “Professor H. Fenton Mudd, at your service.” He grabbed Phineas’ hand and shook it vigorously with both of his, trying to surreptitiously remove the gold ring from his benefactor’s hand.

“Professor,” the head of House Black said with a malevolent smile as the Lord’s Ring started screaming ‘thief, thief’, and didn’t stop until Fenton removed his hand from the Lord Black’s person. “Sorry, Lord Black, old habits die hard, my good man.” The last was squeaked since Phineas now had the visitor by the throat and up against the wall. 

“I am not your man, good or bad,” Phineas said sinisterly as he looked the obsequious man in the face.

“Sorry M’Lord,” Fenton gasped as his hands scrabbled at his host’s, trying to release the hold.

“Hmpf,” the Lord of House Black grunted as he dropped the now grovelling filth to the floor and scourgified his hand as he sat on the chair which was matched to the dark oak secretaire. The room itself was rather sparsely furnished, with only the secretaire, a couple of straight backed chairs to match the desk and chair set, oil lamps along the wall for light, and the floo with mantle piece. There was nothing feminine to relieve the severe lines of the room, it was functional and not much used since Phineas preferred to hold his meetings at one of the other Black properties, not wanting strangers invading his personal space.

“You have news for me,” Phineas stated, frowning at his most unwelcome, but still needed, and most definitely pungently odourous, visitor, not bothering to offer the odious and blindingly colourful man a seat.

Professor Mudd nodded minutely, but his voice was very animated as he answered nervously, “Yes, I do!”

“Well, get on with it then,” Lord Black said impatiently.

Fenton smiled widely, showing all his gleaming white teeth, “it’s true. The strings the Swedes discovered  _ are  _ an actual fact. Wizard kind is made up of these strings, and certain traits are passed on from mother and father to child when it is conceived.”

Despite himself, Phineas was mildly interested, “how does this explain squibs,” he snapped with a scowl.

The professor took a stack of parchment from his inside coat pocket and squinted at it, affecting a far-sighted stare, before finally reaching into his breast pocket and removing the monocle hanging at the end of a chain and placing it to his right eye, “ah, much better,” he exclaimed as he read what was written on the parchment through the plain glass lens. “Yes, here it is,” he said as he placed a finger at the place on the parchment he wished to show his patron. He tried to move to stand beside Phineas so they could look at the parchment together, but found his feet would not move. He looked up nervously, and ingratiatingly said, “if you need any help, I would be happy to explain,” as he held the parchment out with a slightly shaking hand. The smile on Phineas’ face told Mudd that that wasn’t the appropriate tact to use.

“That’s quite enough, Professor,” Phineas said with an unnerving smile. “You will  **summarize** what you have found for me.” At Fenton’s suddenly glowing aura, Phineas amended, “in one hundred words or less. Less, would be more.”

Fenton’s shoulders dropped momentarily at having his words limited, but soon stood straight again and got right to the point, “the squibs are missing one of the strings that contains the information necessary to become magical.”

Phineas looked at the disreputable scavenger before him and gave a thin lipped smile, “sixteen words. Amazing. It’s as if you  _ desire _ to live another day. One would almost think you were...trainable.” He grabbed the sheaf of parchment from his ‘guest’ and scanned them, noting there was nothing there about his special area of interest, “What about forcing an animagus change, or preventing the change?”

“The special blood you gave us?” Fenton asked, interested despite himself.

“The very same,” Black said, becoming rather disillusioned with the person who was supposed to be head of research of the clinic he had started to delve into the mysteries of why squibs happened, why mudbloods came from non-magical families, and just how people like Nagini were able to transform when there was no apparent traits within the family to indicate such a thing was possible, curses notwithstanding.

Mudd shook his head, “we haven’t learned anything.” At Phineas’ murderous glare he hastily amended, “Yet, m’Lord. We haven’t learned anything YET.” Of its own accord, his hand went to his throat, as if remembering being held to the wall a few minutes earlier.

Phineas stood and took a step toward his captive with each word he spoke, “I have given you money, time, staff. Any resources you have required, and now you have  _ nothing for me?”  _ His voice may have been calm, but the steely delivery certainly made his barely controlled anger quite evident. “Maybe some alone time with my  _ wife  _ will motivate you in the right direction.” All the while Mudd had been leaning further and further back, away from his irate benefactor, until he was almost bent double backwards, in order to get away from the temper which had already been displayed.

As the fear in Fenton’s eyes approached terror, Phineas stated, “I’m sure she’ll make a wonderful test subject, as well as make you realize that what I’m willing to do to my wife to get these answers, I am more than willing to do the same,  **or worse** , to someone of  _ your  _ status.” Mudd’s eyes grew round as he realized that not only did Lord Black control his purse strings, he quite possibly knew that Fenton was not what he intimated, and that if he didn’t deliver results soon, not only would his purse strings be cut, he might possibly not need that purse at all.

As Phineas left the room, he thought  _ the unintelligent tool’s imagination will supply worse torture than anything I might devise.  _ He stalked down the hall, back to his study where he found his wife sitting on one of the chairs, reading a book from the shelves which lined the walls of the room. “There is a guest in the reception room who requires your attendance, dear,” he said condescendingly. He was already irritated by the filth he had been forced to spend time with, and now his wife was adding to that irritation by still being in his private space! Not even Kreacher would come in without being explicitly told to do so!

Nagini rose gracefully from the chair and placed the book back from where she had gotten it, “Of course Phineas,” she said, and turned toward the door.

“Oh, and Nagini,” he said as he stepped aside to allow her to pass. She raised her eyebrow in question as she approached her husband, knowing she didn’t really have to say anything since he would simply stick her to the floor and say his fill whether she wanted to listen to him drone on about things or not. 

She sighed as she came up even with Phineas, he wasn’t going to say anything at all until she acknowledged that he had spoken since he did not accept a simple raised eyebrow or head shake as acknowledgement, “Yes Phineas,” she said as demurely as she could muster.

His thin lipped smile returned, she was learning to heel quite nicely, “it might be better if you approached him as a snake.”

Rather than question his command, for she knew it was not a suggestion, she transformed into her cursed form, rather hating that she had more control over when she turned when she was around strong magicals than she did when she was around the mundane and those with little magic to spare. She knew she didn’t have much time left in her human form, and wanted to make the most of it while she could.

Nagini slithered down the hall, Phineas behind her, and into the reception room and stared at the man before her. She tasted the air with her forked tongue and tried to back away: the rancid man smelled like he had done things in his trousers no self-respecting wizard would ever admit to doing once he was past the age of two, but Phineas cleared his throat, telling her without words that retreating was not an option she should exercise.

She tasted the air again and glared at the man with her slit-eyed gaze. Something was definitely not right with the man. She knew who he was, alright, she just didn’t want to remember everything that had happened the last time they had met.

“You see, Professor,” Phineas said with a malevolent grin, “she would make quite a wonderful conversationalist, if given the proper impetus.

“She is the one whose blood you have been testing, and I’m sure she would love it if you could find the connection so that she is not forced to transform, rather she would like to do so at will.” Nagini nodded her head emphatically at her husband’s words, reiterating the fact that despite her current form, she was still human and would like nothing more than to be able to control her changes.

Fenton Mudd tried to back away from the snake which was rapidly approaching him, but found he was still stuck in place, so had nowhere to go, and no way to get there.

Phineas laughed humourlessly and closed the door, leaving the transformed snake, and the non-magical man who was playing with magic alone together.

In the blink of an eye Nagini was back in human form and giving her own malevolent smile to the man whom she had bitten the last time they had met; she still couldn’t get the taste of mudd out of her mouth. “We’re not going to have a repeat of last time, are we,” she said as a small insincere smile curved her lips. She shook her head even as Mudd tried to stammer something. “No, we’re not,” she said with a more sincere smile, “since only the house elves and the Master of the house can use magic, innate or mechanical, within this room.”

Mudd blanched, she  _ did  _ know what he wasn’t, what he was passing himself off as, “N...n...No Nagini,” he stammered.

She laughed then, low and menacing, “that’s Mrs. Black to you, Mudd,” she stated with unaccustomed steel in her voice. “Now,” she said as she gracefully sat in the chair Phineas had vacated a few minutes before, “what do you need to know.”

“I am trying to figure out how to initiate your change. Once I have figured out how the change starts, I will be able to figure out how to replicate it in others,” he explained with some excitement. 

Nagini hissed at her captive, “so this  **isn’t ** about controlling  _ my change _ ,” she said sadly, “but about initiating a change within others.”  _ I knew he didn’t really love me,  _ she thought,  _ he just didn’t want to continue the trips through muggle Paris to get to the clinic. “ _ Very well,” she said with a resigned sigh, “I will tell you all I can about the transition from human to snake, and snake to human, but you will not get one more drop of blood from me for your research.”

Somehow Fenton Mudd managed to stutter a nod at her statement, and his shoulders slumped as he realized the blood he had at the clinic was all he would get. Then he had a thought _ , which I will voice to His Lordship later,  _ he thought snarkily.

Over the next 90 minutes Nagini transformed many times, back and forth, and explained what she could about the transformation and how she felt each time.

Finally, she’d had enough and stalked from the room in search of Phineas so he could release the slime in the reception room and send him on his way. She knocked politely on his office door, and when bade to do so she entered. “Yes, Nagini,” he said distractedly, his head buried in the parchmentwork on his desk.

“I am through with the filth in the reception room,” she said disgustedly, “if you could please release him so he can leave, one of the house elves can air the room out so it will be fit for use again.”

Phineas then gave her one of his rare true smiles: apparently she disliked their visitor as much as he did. He got up and went to release the fool and soon returned to his study. Fortunately, Nagini was exactly where he’d left her; standing in front of his desk. “Thank you Phineas,” she said sincerely, “if that is all, I feel the need to bathe in acid since he makes my scales crawl.”

Phineas nodded, “I trust the visit was enlightening?”

Nagini laughed tiredly: Fenton Mudd’s visits had always left her feeling drained and soiled, “if you mean that he uses mechanical means to affect magic, then yes,” she said.

“So,” Phineas said with a superior air, “it is as I expected. He has sources in Knockturn Alley which will supply him with whatever he needs.

“Very well, Nagini, that will be all,” Phineas said as he turned back to his parchments.

* * *

Several months later there was an unexpected knock at the door: Kreacher soon appeared before his Master and bowed low, “Master,” he croaked reverently, “the dirty man is back and waiting for Master in the reception room.” Kreacher disappeared with a crack, and Phineas left the garden to deal with the foul thing that called itself human and sullied any place he went.

“What do you have for me, Mudd,” he said as he entered the room, not bothering with niceties since the  _ man _ hadn’t bothered to call ahead.

“M’Lord,” Fenton said with a bow as he swept his fez in a wide sweeping arc, “I have found the link!” He continued excitedly.

At Fenton’s pause, Phineas heatedly said, “Get on with it, Mudd. You won’t be getting any older if you don’t.”

Fenton gulped, but continued as if the threat hadn’t been uttered, “my Potion Masters,” at Phineas’ glare, he amended, “your Potion Masters have come up with a potion which will enable a magical person to transform! The only drawback,” he said with trepidation, “is that they can only change into a snake.” Phineas’ eyes gleamed at hearing that he would be able to turn into the only form a true Slytherin would want.

“Where is it then,” Phineas said as he held out his hand impatiently.

“I...i...I didn’t bring it with me,” Mudd stammered.

If looks could kill, Fenton would have been dead many times over by the time he managed to squeak out, “I can bring it to you tomorrow.”

Phineas shook his head and said, barely hiding his irritation, “No, you can use the floo and be back in moments.”

The soon to be former professor shook his head, “no, you would not permit the Ministry entrance to the clinic so one could be installed, so I will have to go the usual way.”

Uncharacteristically, Phineas growled and grabbed Fenton’s arm. He then turned, threw floo powder into the fireplace and enunciated quite clearly, “Black’s Respite.” He then pulled the odious man through the floo after himself, and into the drawing room of the Paris Black residence. “You have one hour to be back here with the potion,” he said as he dropped the elbow, realizing how right Nagini had been when she described her last encounter with the man; he felt like bathing in acid as well, just to get rid of the stench.

Fenton stumbled as he stepped from the fireplace, and actually fell to one knee as his elbow was released. He recovered as best he could and stammered, “of course, m’Lord,” and started to scurry away, but remembered, “M’Lord, could you show me to the door please?”

Phineas scowled at the rat but hurriedly lead him to the front door and all but pushed him out.

Fenton was back, barely within the time limit imposed by his benefactor. “It’s about time,” Phineas said as he held out his hand at the door, not letting the researcher back in. Kreacher had aired the place out during the last hour, grumbling all the while about letting the filth on Black property.

Fenton was just as happy to be finished with Lord Black, as Lord Black was to be done with him, so he handed the phial over quickly and scurried away before Phineas could change his mind about anything.

Phineas smiled wickedly as he closed the door. A true Slytherin, he had wanted to be able to turn into a snake since he was old enough to know what an animagus was. He had tried the animagus reveal potion, but nothing had shown itself, much to young Phineas’ disappointment. Old Phineas’ too, come to that. But now, that was about to end, he would be able to turn into a snake! He went back to the drawing room and floo’d home, calling for Nagini as soon as he stepped into his study.

“Yes Phineas,” she said as soon as she got to the door. He rarely called for her, and even more rarely went in search of her, so this was quite a momentous occasion.

Phineas upended the potion into his mouth; and gasped at the feelings coursing through his body.  _ Strange,  _ he thought,  _ I don’t feel any different. _ Suddenly his body was writhing, all of his bones felt like they were breaking, his vision was changing! The world was suddenly devoid of any colour other than blue and green, and he was so cold!

“Oh Phineas!” Nagini exclaimed as she knelt down to be closer to his level, “you are quite a beautiful snake.” She picked him up and called for Kreacher, “Can you start a fire for your Master please, Kreacher?” She asked, nodding at the rather large snake which was in her arms and draping to the floor.

Kreacher snapped his fingers and a crackling fire started in the grate. Nagini lay Phineas on the hearth as close to the fire as she dared; Phineas hissed in pleasure. “Feels good, doesn’t it,” she said before transforming and slithering to rest beside her husband before the fire.

Nagini grew drowsy, as snakes are wont to do in the cold months, and decided to go up to bed. She turned back to her human form and spoke, “Phineas?” He looked up at her drowsily, “are you going to stay as a snake? Or would you rather go up to your bed as a human?” He hissed something, “he didn’t tell you how to switch back?” Phineas shook his head angrily. She laughed, “This certainly is the brighter side of life, for me at least,” she said as she picked her husband up and took him upstairs where a fire was already burning. “I’ll call Sirius in the morning and set him on Mudd’s trail. In the meantime, enjoy the fire.” She turned and went to her own bedroom, silently laughing at the plight Phineas had gotten himself into. She had known he wanted to become a snake, what Slytherin didn’t, but she hadn’t expected him to try to do so at such an advanced age!

* * *

“Where is my father?” Sirius Black II demanded as he came through the floo the next morning. 

Nagini smiled, “he’s on the hearth at your feet Sirius.”

Sirius’ face registered a split second of surprise when he saw his usually stately father lying on the hearth like a common garden snake. “You didn’t!” He exclaimed. “You trusted the filth to tell you everything?”

Phineas hissed something. “He says,” Nagini said, trying to hide her glee at the turn of events, “that it pains him to admit it, but he was too excited, and the...” she stopped to think for a moment, “there is no translation for what he said, but what he meant was that the odious  _ man _ ran before your father could stop him to get the rest of the potion or instructions.”

“Are you a wizard or not, father,” Sirius demanded angrily, “You have a wand! You know how to stick someone to the floor!”

Phineas started hissing angrily, but Sirius took the opportunity he had since his father couldn’t reprimand him or stop him from speaking, and went on for several long minutes about his father’s apparent inadequacies. It didn’t take long for Phineas to get fed up with his son’s antics and advance on him threateningly, but Sirius wasn’t paying attention. Nagini was, though, “Now Phineas,” she said as she stepped between father and son, “you will probably regret that once you are back to yourself. Give Sirius his instructions and let him find Mudd so you can turn back.”

Phineas hissed at Nagini, expressing his extreme displeasure at her solution to the dispute. She hissed back at him, quite pleased when he acquiesced. “Finally,” she said as she turned to her step-son, “he says you know the particulars, and that Mudd is in France. Probably Paris, unless he left by muggle means,” Sirius looked at Nagini, glared really at the mundane word, “no, he didn’t use that particular word, but since I do not like the word he used, you have to deal with it. Phineas also said that the file he compiled on Mudd is in the warded drawer of his desk.”

Sirius eyed his father, “I don’t know if the wards will let me into the desk, father,” he said snidely, “since you  **are ** still alive.”

Phineas hissed some more and Nagini said, “he says that as the heir you will have access.”

Sirius nodded and went to the desk: He touch the specified drawer with his wand and muttered something under his breath. His father scowled, if a snake can scowl, at such poor enunciation, but the drawer opened, regardless. Sirius smiled and removed the folder before once again warding the drawer. “I will be back when I have him Father,” he said as he looked down at his father who was hissing what Sirius assumed was a reprimand for muttering; he then flung some floo powder into the fireplace and was gone in a flash of yellow-green flame.

* * *

Three months later a rather disheveled Sirius stepped through the floo into his father’s study and looked around, and down as well: The study was empty. He looked out the window, the sun was shining. It was Easter break, perhaps they were outside. He went through the house, checking rooms as he went, then out to the garden and quietly called for his father. Two snakes came slithering up a few minutes later; one of them shivered and turned back into herself, the other was disconsolately shaking its head. “He is discovering that being a snake is not quite as,” she stopped as the other snake hissed something at her, and it sounded quite unhappy, “as fun as he thought it would be,” she said, smothering a laugh.

“I would hope not,” Sirius said seriously as he pulled a phial from his robe pocket. “I spoke to the Potion Masters father, and they said this is the potion to make you turn back to yourself.” His father reared up and hissed angrily at him, “of course I didn’t tell them who it was for! You didn’t raise me to be an idiot, Father,” he said irately. “They said since it’s been so long it might take three or four hours for you to become yourself again, but it will work.” Sirius called for a shallow dish, set it on the ground and poured the potion into it.

Phineas eagerly drank the potion and waited impatiently, for several hours, for the transformation to reverse itself. Just when he was about to glare at the man he called son and demand he return to France to get the RIGHT formula, he felt a small tingle in his tail, which rapidly spread along his body. He shook and shivered for several minutes before he was human again.

Sirius knelt down beside his father and shook his shoulder gently, but nothing happened. Nagini felt for the pulse in Phineas’ neck, and there was nothing: she shook her head.

Sirius rushed inside and quickly returned with his father’s personal healer. He ran the usual diagnostics and shook his head sadly, “the scans say he died of a heart attack, Mr. Black,” he said quietly. While Phineas had been a crusty old man, he had been a good one, in the old traditions, of course, and he would be missed.

Phineas’ funeral was attended by many, including his Deputy Head Master, Armando Dippet, who became Headmaster at Phineas’ death

As soon as the mourning period was over Nagini fled. She’d heard Sirius and his brother discussing what to do with her. They had their father’s prejudices, so she knew she wouldn’t like what they came up with for her, and since she was essentially non-magical, they would most likely simply throw her out with the clothes on her back and a few knuts so they wouldn’t sully their father’s name.

In time she made her way to the Circus Arcanus where Skender, the owner, took her in and treated her more kindly than she had known since she left Britain. Skender’s kindness didn’t last long though. Once he found out that she could turn into a snake at will, she had to work for what he gave her. She eventually met Credence Barebone at the circus and they escaped, together.

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing, I hope you had fun reading this extremely rare pair.


End file.
